


The Cartel’s Love Affair

by shaun_big_boo



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Death, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Gangs, Juan Mendez, Love Triangles, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Near Death Experiences, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, White House, barack my beloved, i gat a beta reader dw ladies, michelle comes in later, quackity basically runs the cartel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29733168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaun_big_boo/pseuds/shaun_big_boo
Summary: When word gets out that members from several dangerous gangs are bringing back The Cartel,President Barack Obama needs to act fast with the help of one its high level members, who is willing to let some things slide.Will this lead to something more then just a begrudging collaboration?
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Barack Obama
Kudos: 3





	1. What Do They Want?

Footsteps were pacing along the West Colonnade of the white Parliament Building of America. The confident strides were heading to the President's room. Opening the door, the steps were muffled as his shoes met the oval office printed carpet. Obama then sat in his brown leather chair that had just been rotated. Once contact was made to the chair, a ring came from the telephone placed on his left. He hastily picked it up.

"President Barack. Yes, let them in."

A sextet walked in from the dining room, most looking stern while some looked on with concern. The first to walk in was Former General of the Army McChrystal. He was also the first to speak.

"Mr President what is the meaning of this?".

"Well it's in the matter of principal gentlemen."

"Mr President, you didn't call for me to be out of retirement for principle what is the issue sir?" he scoffed.

"Well, General McChrystal," Obama continued though his chuckling, "You do know the difference between principle and principal, do you not?".

Obama patiently waited for the man to respond, "Well, do you?".

The man replied reluctantly, "Ye- yes sir, one means by law and the other is a different name for a headmaster."

"That is correct but not quite the full answer I wanted. "Principle" also has the meaning of an important objective or to that effect".

Standing up from his seat Obama walked a lap of the oval, then seated himself on one of George W. Bush's sofas and gestured to the group to sit.

"I received your report".

A man to the left of the General spoke. "Oh, well sir, what is your course of action?".

"However I didn't read it, I called you to tell me what it said".

The room fell silent, the knowledge that it would take the men over an hour to give the details to the president sinking in. Mr President Obama would be very unimpressed.

"So you couldn't find the group?" a loud sigh released itself from Barack's lips, then a hard grimace showed itself.

"Gentleman I think I've heard enough. Your job is to find the cartel, report to me when that part of the work is done. That will be all, please see yourself out."

The men left the room as quietly as they came, leaving the president to think to himself for the rest of the evening. Even when it came to the late hours in his bedroom in the White House, his family noticed his behaviour but since the man was the president of the country they didn't bother him. The question wasn't how to deal with the cartel, it was 'what does the cartel want?".

He knew most of the members' names, several men from different but powerful gangs; Tonio García, Jorge Flores, Martìnez who is not to be confused with Juan Mendez who is the most infamous, but the one of most interest is a man who's name is a mystery. He's a very private individual, not much is known about him except that he is very high in the chain and he is supposedly known as 'Big Q'. Rarely to be seen in public spaces and the only pictures of him, are ones where he's not even facing the camera with a beanie or cap.

. . .

The time akin to conception had past, and yet no real breakthrough had been made. The men would report to Mr Obama every so often, but there was never any good news on the whereabouts of the cartel.

Obama woke up on his desk in the wee hours of the morning, shaking the thoughts of last night's drinks. He changed out of his suit into a jumpsuit, opening the front door of the white house. He would have a jog around the neighbourhood which he did most morning to relax him for the day to come. He got home around 6:14am, taking a shower and got ready for work.

Entering his office he found a small hand written letter on his chair, the paper seared at the edges. With concern the President carefully searched the room, seeing if there were any signs of tomfoolery. When he confirmed that there was none, he replaced himself with the note and started to read it.

"Dear Mr President,

As you well know the cartel is gaining power in the south, and your league is getting worried about it. Well, I think I might have a solution for your troubles. I have exclusive information on the ins and outs of the 'system' as we like to call it, and I know you're in dire need of help. I'll be willing to support under one condition; you meet me tonight at the XY Bar across bay on the east side at 5:00pm for drinks and so we can have a better conversation. Of course, I don't want any of my colleagues knowing about this so just keep it between us, ok? Of course you can have a talkie on you and a bodyguard but he'd have to stay in the car. I've eyes everywhere, so no funny business.

Love, Q"

Placing the note into his inner jacket pocket he left the room, and wouldn't return until he organised a chauffeur for the occasion. The man the President had put for this job was a good friend of his, in addition to being his most trusted bodyguard. John Baker, who wasn't a part of the white house. This was important because this needed to be kept under wraps, he didn't want this to get out.

The men would leave the white house at four-fifteen in the late afternoon and head to the east side in John's car. The ride there was intense for both men. Was it the actual Big Q who asked for Barak? Taking the orders of the note Mr Obama took a walkie talkie with him, but if he was in severe danger he had a mechanism in his coat-link cuffs that if he pressed it, would send a signal to the security in the White House to come get him immediately. The car pulled up to the entrance of the bar with about 5 minutes to spare. The president would take this time to calm his nerves.

Once he was calm he opened the car door and exited the car. Turning to John, he spoke clearly,

"John I can't thank you enough for this really. I don't know what I would've done if you didn't agree to take me here."

John chuckled nervously, "Anytime Barak, just make sure you come out of that bar intact."

With a wave the door was shut and Obama entered the bar.

The bar was extremely quiet; there were only a handful of people in the place, including the bartender, who looked at the president with confirmation. With a nod the man led President Obama into a room in the back of the bar. Opening the door he could see that there was a table with two chairs on either end, but what confused the President was that the table was set with unlit candles and a white and red rose in the centre, all on top of a silk crimson tablecloth, with fine threads of gold woven in.

When Barak entered the room the bartender closed the door, leaving the President to his own devices, which consisted of looking around the room. Obama sat himself in one of the seats. Suddenly, there was the sound of heels clapping on the ground. He could hear it coming from outside the room, the sound stopping at the door. It would open to reveal a lady in her late twenties with a look of content graced across her face.

"Well if it isn't the President himself, how are you sir? My name is Miss Amaya and I work under Mr Q."

"I'm well ma'am, when will I be seeing Mr Q?"

"He will be in shortly. I just have to confirm his wishes, do you have a talkie with you? Please, if you have any other devices on you currently, let me know. We wouldn't want the boss losing his top".

The President sighed. He was contemplating telling the lady the truth.

"If I'm to be honest I've taken the added precaution of a location device that if I press it it sends my whereabouts to my security, would it be ok if you ask your boss if he is fine with it?"

"Yes of course," She left the room and would return after a few minutes. "He said he's ok with it, are you ready to see him Mr president?".

"Ready as I'll ever be, Miss Amaya."

She left the room again, and instead of coming back in, a man stepped in and sat down on the seat across Barack. He was around 5''7', with dark brown hair and eyes. He was moderately attractive, no Hemsworth but he would be formidable to a younger and cuter mix of Professional boxer Oscar De La Hoya and American boxer Ryan Garcia.

Barack was astonished that he couldn't find his words. This was a moment he's never imagined having; a drink with one of Mexico's most infamous cartel members, not to mention having almost no information on his identity. But here he was, sitting in front of the President himself. Big Q stood up and leaned over the table with an outstretched hand that Obama grasped firmly, and the two men shook hands.

"This is crazy, isn't it Mr President? Well, I should introduce myself. As you know I go by Big Q, but further on with our future meetings you'll soon find out my name, since we are gonna be extremely acquainted with each other. Well, eventually at least." His accent was smooth, words spilling low from his lips.

For the first meeting, it went smoother than most would think.


	2. Who Can It Be Now?

Obama finds out about the inner workings in the cartel, a lot of things that not even the lower ranking members would know. He was surprised to find out that the elusive "Big Q" wasn't even placed that high in the ranks, but that he does work alongside people with power.

The only thing that Barack couldn't wrap his head around was the reason he was being told this secretive information. Suspicions from Baker, who came to the conclusion that he was being lied too, but the President thought otherwise. Something in his gut told him that Big Q was telling the truth. 

The men would have meetings every so often in various locations, most only going for around 20 minutes, but this was so no one would get suspicious of their absence.  
. . .  
Big Q was sitting in patiently lower end of some low-blow, worn-down pub, called L’burg Inn. He was surveying the room, although the place was relatively quiet aside from a group of senile men playing a cut throat game of pool with a odd pair of animals; like a Siamese cat and a fox. But Big Quack had seen much stranger things in his day, so it didn't initially phase him.

The sound of the men laughing would draw his attention to a fair looking lady in the opposite side of the room. She looked about 5’11, taller than he normally goes for but damn she was fine. Women in Big Q’s line of work were hard to come by. 

Every woman he knew was either someone's mother or already married, which of course wasn't too much of a hurdle for most of the members but to Big Q? He had enough respect and admiration of his peers that he never laid a hand on their wife or even their mothers.

But he's never seen this woman before here, as a member of several dangerous gangs in addition to the cartel he needs to know all the local residents, whether they are in an enemy gang or not.

Big Q had the best knowledge of who-was-who in any local area and if he didn't know an area too well he'd either find someone who did or find out himself.

He found himself heading towards the lady with bronze hair reflected by the bar lights. Once he got close enough he could sense something wrong. The next moment, the sound of a revolver clicking rang through the air.

In that instance he knew something was up. 

BANG. 

Then silence. A thud from the back of the room. A man laid face down on the tiled ground.

Big Q quietly ducked behind a table, waddling his way to the back of the bar to take a look at the man. A single hole in the back of his head could be seen. 

He stood up immediately and ordered a man to call the police and another to make sure that the place was locked. Big Q ran to the back exit, making sure the door was locked as he closed it firmly and bolted.

His destination was his fellow gang member Juan Mendez. Running though all the back alleys making sure that he wouldn't be seen by any one, he got there in about 15 minutes with sweat dripping off his forehead.

"Juan, a member of the Rats is dead!". Fear strained through his voice, intermittently between bursts of desperately needed air. 

When one belongs to a gang, someone dying isn't rare. Many members from Big Q’s gang have been killed, stand stills happen every now and again, but most of the time it is two individuals who hate one another. But there are some groups where if one of their members is killed, they want compensation.

"What exactly happened Alex?".

He recalled the previous events making sure he remembered as many details as possible. Juan jotted down the important parts. 

“So you know who shot the Rat?”.

“No clue, all I saw was the normal loonies,” However a quick pause made Alex think. “Actually, there was a woman.”

“Do you think she has anything to do with it?”.

Silence began to ring in Alexis’ ears. The thought of him being blamed for the rat’s death scared him, which also seemed to spook Juan.

The Rats gang is a group of notorious thieves and dealers. The group is extremely tight, so when one is in a fight the whole group will rain havoc, and it's worse when one of them is killed. Well, one can make a guess.

And this was bad news for Big Q. If he were to get caught by one of them talking with Obama, things would end badly for the both of them. Alex was already having problems with the cartel, if he were to have one with a revenge thriving gang who knows how it will end for him.

He needed to find out who killed that man and fast. It wasn't life or death, but it needed to be done quickly. But how? Revising the situation Juan thought it would be a bad idea to go out into public. The problem was he had a meeting with the President during the week. He had no way to contact the president, and with no way to tell the man of his current situation, Alex was stuck. . . .  
The day came, and Big Q didn't know what to do. He deliberated for a while and came to the conclusion that he would go meet him, regardless of the current situation. He just had to, something told him he should, and why would he ignore his instinct?

Big Q left Juan's place at the time he would normally leave to meet with Barak, around nine forty-five. Just late enough in the night that it was difficult to see, but not where it was suspicious for a man to be walking around alone, thus quarter to ten was the viable option.

But under his current predicament it might have been a bit late. Most gangs in the area are living their best lives and the Rats are known to be all nighters.

Alexis took every precaution he could. Going into quiet areas and alleyways would normally be his best option, but Rats hide is the most reclusive of places, meaning loud & bustling places were the way to go at least for the time being. In addition to taking public transport, Rats hate buses.

"Who wants to be stuck in a bus with the public, they would snitch" the quote from rat member 45 pops into his mind. 

The only problem with public transport is the need to wait for the bus. After thinking for a second he decided he would catch the bus and get off at Miss Amaya's house, and the two would make their way to XY Bar. 

Alexis had known Miss Amaya for a few years, after the two met in law school. While the two studied, they developed a sibling type rivalry while still maintaining a close bond.

In order to keep his cover during his way to Miss Amaya, Big Q tries to find a bus stop with a sizable number of people, but being so late in the evening he could only find one. He froze when he noticed that one of the passengers was a cartel member. Carlos Berra, albeit a lowered ranking member, but still dangerous enough to make Alexis careful. 

Chills ran through Big Q’s spine. Something didn't feel right about this. The pair's eyes met, and Carlos beamed.

"Señor Q!" Familiarity filled the air and excitement released itself through Carlos, "how are you me amigo?".

Alex gave a sigh of relief, Carlos had been an acquaintance of him for a while, when the two saw one another they have the appropriate acknowledgment

“Aye Carlos, I’m good, how are you though?”. 

Keeping morals in the cartel was permanently engraved into Big Qs mind. He loved his peers and what he couldn't handle was the fact that they were forced to perform tasks that they couldn't mentally handle; causing most of the members to become callous and cold. He hated watching this happen to the people closest to him.

Big Q knew Carlos through an assignment a few years back. Carlos, so to speak, helped him finish the job. Carlos lost himself long before he even met Big Q, but on the rare occasion Alex swore he could see small glimpses into who he once was.

"Oh ya know, the same old shit, little odd jobs here and there. Nothing big really comes my way anymore, which is fine I guess”.

Carlos is known in the cartel as a low ranking hitman. Most jobs would be getting rid of insignificant people, mostly bastard family members, loan sharks or occasionally a rogue thug. His inner conscience wasn't really what it should, his shoulder devil handled most of his problems.

“The pay is good though,” Alexis forced a chuckle, things like this here a normal occurrence but it still shakes him up. “Still not my cup of tea as you know”.

The sound of tires screeching approached the group. As the two climbed onto the bus, the conversation fell silent. Once Carlos got to his stop he said his goodbyes and stepped off in the opposite direction at 1.5ms-1 relative to the bus which travelled at 10ms-1 relative to the ground, if this is the case what is the buses velocity relative to Carlos?

Ignoring that, Big Q stayed on the bus for about another 15 minutes and got off at his destination; a stop that was a small distance from Miss Amaya’s house.

Entering through the back door he entered the home quietly but not before knocking on the door and waiting for an answer. When one came, he entered carefully. The sound of a vacuum was very well present. Tracking where the sound came from he headed to the sound. His steps were muffled by the carpet as he entered the spare bedroom, he found Miss Amaya with her back away from the door.

Quietly tiptoeing to her and reached out his hand to tap her on the shoulder. A heavy punch planted itself on his face. A harsh punch like that would normally just stumble him back slightly, but the unexpectedness of this particular blow made him trip over the vacuum cord and land on his ass.

“What is wrong with you! You know you can't just enter my home without knocking?”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom second chapter, that was kind of fun to right n a little challenging.
> 
> Thanks again to my beta reader for editing this chapter, couldn't of done it without them.
> 
> but I had no idea writing would be this hard, took me so long just to write like 4 pages .
> 
> with that physics question y'all can answer it in the comments, I don't even think its right, or worded right that is.
> 
> Cheers  
> -Shaun
> 
> P.S. Beta - Reader: sexy bitch give her clout: twitter @paigeelisee_
> 
> P.P.S. text to speech is a god sent

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta reader for editing my first chapter, it would of been completely unreadable if it wasn't for them.
> 
> This is all for fun I don't mean any hard to the people in this silly story.
> 
> Names in this story are of fictional characters and should be seen as so, if there is a real person with those names its coincidental n done by accident (other then Quackity Obama/his family or the two pro wrestlers).
> 
> This story is just for laughs n I don't sincerely ship the main characters, but if you do, well uh... I hope you'll still want to read my story.
> 
> In addition to it being a low grade interest of mine, id like to say this is my second story I've ever written, so take what you will from that 
> 
> Thanks   
> -Shaun  
>    
> P.S. Beta - Reader: sexy bitch give her clout: twitter @paigeelisee_


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